Memories
by hnyswtypie
Summary: With the loss of his fiancee still a fresh wound, Scott finds himself once again facing the idea of losing someone he loves.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own the X-Men, or anything from their plane of existence. I do love playing with them, though.

_Italics_- flashback

'Blahblah'-thought

**Blahblah**-telepathic communication

"_Storm, give us some cover."_

_Cyclops nodded in approval as mist rolled in, thick enough to obscure the rest of his team from view. Cyclops knew they were there, though. He had the utmost faith in them. Even Wolverine. Still, he tapped his comm open, and began role call._

"_Rogue."_

"_Here," a light southern accent returned._

"_Iceman."_

"_At your service, fearless leader."_

"_Nightcrawler."_

"_Ja," the German mutant was the newest member of the team. He had agreed to join up shortly after the Alkali Lake incident. With a pang, Cyclops pushed his emotions to the side. Every time he thought about that place, anger and a deep sadness swelled inside him. He couldn't risk losing himself in those emotions, especially now._

"_Storm."_

"_I am here," came the smooth, steady voice of his second in command._

"_Wolverine."_

"_Here."_

"_Alright people, we need to be quick. We get in there, get the kid, and get out. Do not engage the enemy unless it is absolutely necessary. You got that Wolverine?" Wolverine's response was mumbled, but he was sure he heard the word 'prick' in there somewhere._

"_Okay. Storm, you take Rogue. The building's security system is housed on the top floor. Take it out. By any means necessary. Radio when you're done." There was a brief increase in the wind, signaling Storm's ascent to the roof. Next he addressed Wolverine, "Wolverine you and Iceman are to stay out here. You two are our backup. Once again, Wolverine, do NOT engage unless I give the go-ahead."_

"_I heard ya the first time, boy. Just get on with it," Logan growled. _

_The hairs on the back of Cyclops' neck rose. He could have sworn the other man was a lot closer than he had been when last they spoke. Shaking his head, he called to Nightcrawler._

"_I am here, mein freund," the blue mutant responded almost immediately._

"_You're with me. We're going in to retrieve the kid. As soon as Storm gives the okay, we'll go in. Do you remember what to do from there?"_

"_Ja."_

_With a brief nod to himself, Cyclops turned his attention to the building that loomed just ahead. After a moment, his earpiece crackled to life and Storm's voice came through, giving him the all clear. _

_The building was quiet, almost too quiet. A tiny voice at the back of his mind screamed to Cyclops that something wasn't right. Not being one to ignore that voice, he remained mindful of his surroundings, watching for even the slightest movement. _

_As he and Nightcrawler moved carefully through the building, Cyclops let his mind once again go over the mission. The team was to sneak into a top-secret government building and retrieve 14 year old Josiah McCall. Josiah had just recently come into his powers- telepathy, a few days prior. It had taken the government two days to find and apprehend the boy, calling him a danger to society. When his parents had tried to intervene, they had been executed, shot in the head. _

_Footsteps sounded, echoing in the wide, empty hallway. Someone was moving in their direction- fast. Cyclops held up a hand to stall Nightcrawler, then turned to confront whoever was coming. Nightcrawler moved out of his line of sight, melting into the shadows. The footsteps were closer now, though slower than before. With his hand just grazing the side of his visor, Cyclops waited in the darkness, ready to fire should the need arise. _

_A young guard rounded the corner, pistol raised. "S-stop where you are," his voice held a tremor, and his hand was shaking._

_Cyclops dropped his hand from his visor, and took a small step forward. The young man- boy really, took a hurried step back, nearly tripping over his feet with the effort. Stopping his approach, the X-Men team leader raised his hands, palms out, to indicate that he intended no harm. "Look, I don't want any trouble," he spoke softly, calmly. "I just-"_

_He was interrupted by Wolverine's gruff voice in his ear, "Wolverine to Cyclops. Come in."_

'_Dammit!' He ignored Wolverine's call for the moment and turned his attention back to the little boy with the big gun cowering in front of him. The boy kept looking off down the hall, as if he was expecting backup to arrive at any moment. 'Dammit! Dammit!' "Look, kid, we really don't have time for this. Drop your gun, or my friend and I are going to have to take it from you."_

"_F-friend! W-what f-fri-"_

_Just then Nightcrawler stepped out of the shadows, "Me."_

_The boy opened and closed his mouth several times, but no sound came out. Then, with a soft, feminine scream, he fainted dead away. _

"_Well, I guess that's one way to do it," Cyclops sighed. "Let's get moving. There's no telling how long it will be before more guards come." _

"_Wolverine to Cyclops. Are you there?" Wolverine called again, sounding highly perturbed. "Look, asshole, if I have ta call ya again-"_

"_Cyclops here. What do you need, Wolverine?" He really wasn't in the mood to go another round with the older man._

"_It's about damn time," Wolverine muttered. Then in a fuller voice he added, "Me an the popsicle ran inta a bit of trouble."_

_Cyclops stopped dead, Nightcrawler almost colliding with him. "What kind of trouble?"_

"_Ran inta a coupla guards comin' back from dinner or somethin'. We handled it, though. Just thought I should let ya know, seein' as you're the leader an' all." With that, the connection went dead. _

'_Everything is going straight to hell,' he thought, a grim set to his jaw. Without so much as a glance at Nightcrawler, he continued forward almost at a run. After a few moments, the two mutants came across a long hallway with what looked like cells on either side. Cyclops motioned with four fingers toward the left side of the hallway. With a nod, Nightcrawler hurried to the fourth cell on the left side. With a puff of smoke he disappeared, only to reappear a moment later with Josiah. _

_Cyclops barely spared the boy a glance before turning on his heel and quickly retracing his steps. The soldier he and Nightcrawler had encountered on the way in was stilled sprawled on the floor, looking more like a sleeping child than a gun-toting man. For a fleeting moment, Cyclops actually felt sympathy for him, but he didn't allow the feeling to linger. They still had to make it out of the building alive._

_The sound of gunfire caused Cyclops, Nightcrawler, and Josiah to break into a dead run. Cyclops tapped open his comm, "X-Men, this is Cyclops. What's going on out there?" There was no response, so he tried again, this time calling to each person in turn. Finally he got a curt response from Wolverine. "Wolverine, what the hell is going on out there?"_

"_We're under attack. There are about thirty fuckers out here, came outta nowhere."_

_Scott could hear the sounds of a battle in the background. Heart hammering in his chest, he doubled his speed and yelled to Nightcrawler, "Can you teleport to the Blackbird from here?"_

"_Ja," the blue mutant sounded winded, but showed no sign of slowing down._

"_Good. Go. Stay with Josiah; do not leave under any circumstances." There was no response, only the rotten-egg smell of Nightcrawler following orders. _

_Reaching the door, Cyclops slammed into it, forcing it open, only to have the damn thing pushed shut from the other side. With a curse he tried again. There was some resistance, but he was finally able to open it. The unconscious form of a guard lay in front of the door. He took a moment to seek out his comrades. Wolverine stood over one guard who sat sniveling on the ground, no doubt begging for his life. Rogue and Iceman fought side by side, the seemingly ineffective young woman proving she was anything but as she landed a jaw shattering punch. Storm floated in the air, using her winds to pummel anyone foolish enough to come after her._

_Satisfied that his team was holding their own, Cyclops joined the fight in earnest. He opened his comm, shouting to the others, "The extraction was successful. The target is aboard the Blackbird, as soon as you're able, make your way there."_

_After a few moments, the battle was won. Each X-Man was on his way back to the jet, when out of nowhere a gunshot sounded. Cyclops whirled, hand at his visor. His eyes locked on a lone gunman trying, in vain, to hide amidst the chaos. With a low concussion blast, Cyclops fired, effectively removing the threat. "Everybody alright?" he asked, looking at each member of his team._

_Rogue was on the ground, Iceman covering her. He jumped up, pulling his girlfriend with him, and proceeded to check her over for any injuries. She smacked his hands away, and turned to face Cyclops, "Ah'm fahne. We both are."_

"_Fuck," Wolverine whispered. He pushed past Cyclops, dropping to his knees beside a still form. He lifted his teammate into his arms and ran for the Blackbird._

"_No," Rogue choked, turning her face into Bobby's shoulder._

_Scott couldn't speak. His heart had stopped cold. This couldn't be happening again._

'_Ro?'_

_696969696969696969696969696969696969696969696969696969696969_

"'Ro!"

Scott awoke with a gasp. It took him a moment to realize where he was. The Med-Lab was disturbingly quiet; the only sound coming from the machines that were currently keeping his best friend alive. He studied her peaceful face for a moment before letting his eyes travel down to her stomach. She was covered in an ordinary white blanket, but beneath it he knew there was a white bandage keeping her insides where they belonged.

Hank had told him that, had she been hit just a half an inch to the left, she wouldn've been gone on the spot. Like Jean. With a grunt, he pushed thoughts of his fiancée from his mind, and devoted his thoughts to his best friend. Sighing, he took her hand

"Everyone around here seems to think that you're in a coma. I keep telling them that you aren't, that this is just your way of getting out of your Danger Room sessions. It's just like you, ya know. Laying here looking like a sleeping angel, while the rest of us fuss over you. You're probably really enjoying this, aren't you- laughing at us idiots. So, come on 'Ro, prove me right. Open those beautiful baby-blues." He fell into silence, eyes trained on her face, looking for the slightest sign that she was coming around.

"C'mon, gorgeous, don't make me face the others and have to tell them that I was wrong. You know how much I hate looking like an idiot."

Silence filled the room once again as he tore his eyes away from her face. He had read someplace that when a person was in a coma, they could hear what those around them were saying. That was the reason he had come down to the Med-Lab in the first place- so that Ororo would know that she wasn't alone, that there was someone in the room that loved her. At the moment, however, he was at a loss as to what to say.

"I know I haven't been much of a friend lately – not since J… since Alkali Lake. There is no excuse for that. I'm sorry." With a chuckle he added, "I can hear you now, yelling at me for apologizing. Telling me that Jean was the love of my life, that I had every right to mourn her. I wasn't the only one that loved her, though. You did. She was your best friend – your sister. I should have been there for you, the way you were for me. I just…" With a shake of his head, Scott took a deep breath. "I won't make any excuses. I'll just say I'm sorry and leave it at that."

He fell into silence once again, his mind travelling back to the first day he met her. She had been the most beautiful creature he had ever come across. It was love at first sight for him. A love that never went away, despite his relationship with Jean. Ororo Munroe had been Scott's first love, his first…everything. One doesn't just get over that, especially not when you see that person everyday.

Over time though, the love he felt for her changed from romantic love to something deeper, more profound. She was the only person he could talk to about anything, even things he couldn't discuss with Jean, or even the professor. Jean had possessed his heart, but his soul belonged to Ororo.

**A/N: Recently I became very interested in the friendship between Scott and Ororo. I think this is one of the most under-rated relationships in fandom, and I wanted to give it my own spin. I wrote this as a movieverse fic mainly because the pasts of the X-Men weren't really expounded upon in either of the movies, meaning I can take the characters and do with them as I please. Hey, if Movie Storm can have brown eyes, then it is possible that Scott is a pre-op transsexual (Just kidding!) Please R/R. Feel free to flame me, I can handle it. FYI- Storm has blue eyes in this one. I just can't picture her any other way.**


	2. Chapter 2

**brill:** Here's the next chapter, I hope you enjoy

**evilevergreen:** In love, huh? Wow, my Scott and Ororo muses are blushing. Feel free to use that line to your hearts content. BTW, I'm still praying for a sequel to Tulip in the Sand, lovey!

**Once again:**

_Italics-_ flashback

'Blahblah'-thought

**Blahblah-**telepathic communication

**------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

"_Take that you son-of-a-bitch," as soon as the words were out of his mouth, 15 year-old Scott Summers tore his eyes away from the television, hands stilled on the controller, and glanced around to make sure he hadn't been heard. Heaving a great sigh of relief, he returned to the task at hand. His fingers moved furiously as Rayden delivered a volley of punches to Shang Tsung, knocking him to the ground. Scott's gaze flicked between the two cartoon images in the middle of the screen and their energy bars at the top. He was winning; just one more round and he would have finally defeated Mortal Kombat. _

"_Scott."_

_The boy turned his head slightly, never taking his gaze from the television. "Yeah."_

"_Scott, would you mind turning that off for a moment? There's someone I would like you to meet." _

"_Just a minute," he continued tapping away at the controller, bound and determined to beat the game. _

"_Scott."_

"_Yeah, yeah, just a minute. I just have to – YES!" Scott jumped up from the couch, pumping his fist in the air. "Yes! Yes! Yes!"_

"_Fatality," A cool voice announced from the television._

"_Man, I finally did it. Do you have ANY IDEA how long I have been trying to beat this game? I never thought I'd do it. Now I just have to win with the rest of the characters and I'll—"_

"_Scott, put the controller down and pay attention."_

_Scott did as he was asked, dropping the controller on the floor and giving his full attention to the man that had taken him in. Professor Charles Xavier was a kind man, the first person to offer his help without demanding anything in return. He had brought Scott into his home, no questions asked, and proceeded to help the boy learn to deal with his mutation. The least he could do was give the man his undivided attention._

_Scott's eyes briefly met the Professor's before noticing the girl by his side. She was the prettiest girl he'd ever seen. To Scott, the world existed in shades of red. He could distinguish light from dark, but he couldn't tell the difference between white and pink. Despite this unfortunate fact, he could tell that the young woman before him was gorgeous. Dark skinned with light hair and eyes, she stood about 5'9" and possessed an air of grace._

_Scott heard the professor clear his throat, but couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from this vision before him. Finally, after many attempts, he was able to turn his gaze upon the professor. "Sorry, sir."_

"_How many times do I have to tell you that it is not necessary to call me sir?" Scott shook his head, lowering his gaze to the ground. He waited for the older man to continue. "Scott, I would like you to meet Ororo Munroe. She's going to be living with us."_

_That really got his attention. His ruby-quartz, covered gaze met the Professor's before once again settling on the girl – Ororo. She flashed a small, shy smile. She put every one of his fantasy women (and, being an adolescent male, he had quite a few) to shame. She was tall, but not in the lanky, awkward way of some teens. He wondered briefly how old she was._

_Suddenly, Scott felt very inadequate, all 6 feet of his gray sweat-clad, wiry frame. The ruby-quartz visor he wore to keep his mutation in check was suddenly very heavy on his face. He was acutely aware of every little flaw, every minor imperfection. _

_**Scott,** the professor broke him from his musings. **Would you mind entertaining Ms Monroe for a few moments?**_

_**N-no, sir.**_

_The professor turned to Ororo, a kind smile on his face, "Ororo, I have a very important call to make. Would you mind waiting here with Scott?_

"_But—" Ororo began, eyes growing wide with panic. She closed her eyes and took a deep, cleansing breath. When she opened them and began to speak, she sounded calm, "Yes, Professor, I will wait here."_

"_I shouldn't be long. When I return, I will show you to your room." With a brief nod of thanks to Scott, he was gone._

_Scott was at a loss. He had no idea what to do or what to say. He looked around the room trying desperately to find something, anything to talk about._

"_Scott?" Ororo's soft, slightly accented voice startled him._

"_Yeah…yes?"_

"_Do you mind if I sit?"_

"_Oh…oh god, yes. I mean no. I mean," he took a deep breath before trying again. "Sure, you can sit."_

_Scott sat as well, on the opposite side of the couch, as far away from the girl as possible. "So…" his voice trailed off as her caught her scent. She smelled of…he couldn't quite put his finger on it. All he knew was that she smelled clean— not just out of the shower clean, but the fresh clean of the air after a summer storm. It was a heady scent, oddly comforting. _

"_Yes?"_

_Scott looked up, surprised at the sound of her voice, "I'm sorry?"_

"_You were going to say something." _

'_I was?' He thought before remembering that he had indeed been about to ask her a question. "I was just going to ask you where you're from," he began. "I noticed the accent."_

"_I was born here, in Harlem, but I grew up in Africa."_

"_Which part?" He was intrigued. Scott knew absolutely nobody from outside of the US._

_Ororo hesitated a moment before actually responding. "All over. I lived in Egypt until the age of eleven. After that I spent a year and a half travelling to different villages before I arrived in Kenya, where I lived until just a few days ago."_

_Scott nodded. "Where are your parents?"_

_The girl said nothing. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and Scott could have sworn that the sky became a little darker. Realizing that she didn't want to continue the course of their conversation, he wracked his brain for a new subject._

"_Do you wanna play?" The words spilled from his lips the moment his eyes fell on the television screen._

"_Play?"_

"_Mortal Kombat," he motioned toward the television. "I've already beat the game, figure it might be a bit more challenging to play an actual person."_

_Ororo gave him a skeptical look as he grabbed the controllers and held one out to her. "I don't know…"_

"_C'mon. I'll go easy on you. Scout's honor," he promised holding up two fingers._

_With a shrug, she took the controller and began to push the buttons. With a chuckle, Scott placed a hand on hers to stop her movements. He patiently explained how to use the controller and the ins and outs of gameplay. _

_He was pleasantly surprised to find that she was a fast learner. After one match, she was handling her own very well._

"_Thanks," Ororo whispered after a moment of silence._

_Scott looked at her out of the corner of his eye, confused as to what she was thanking him for, "For what?"_

"_Respecting my privacy and not pressing me about my parents." She was looking right at him, her light eyes seeming to look right into him. _

_Once again, Scott was struck dumb by her beauty, "Umm, sure. No problem."_

_Smiling, she turned once more to the game and proceeded to kick his ass. By the time Professor Xavier returned to show Ororo to her room, she was up four to one. Scott breathed a sigh of relief as she left the room, telling the professor of her win._


	3. Chapter 3

"Mr Summers?"

Despite the very insistent voice in his head that told him to keep walking, Scott stopped and took a deep breath before turning to face the student that had called out to him. He was surprised to find himself face-to-face with none other than Emma Frost. To say that Emma did not often show much interest in the goings on of those around her was quite the understatement. The truth was, Emma was possibly the most self-centered young woman he had ever met. Combine that with the cold, almost calculating, arrogance she displayed, and one could understand why many of the children called her The Ice Queen. Scott didn't even want to think about what some of the less tactful children called her behind her back.

"Yes Emma?''

"How is Ms Munroe?" she asked. Was that a hint of concern in her eyes?

"There hasn't been a change in her condition," Scott answered cautiously.

Emma pursed her lips and rolled her ice-blue eyes. "Hmmmm. Pity." Definitely NOT concern.

As she turned to walk away, Scott called to her, "Just curious, Ms Frost, as to why you ask."

"She is my professor, Mr. Summers. Is it so wrong of me to ask about her well-being?" Emma sounded scandalized, but Scott knew better.

"Wrong, no. But you must admit, Emma, it is quite out-of-character for you..."

Emma studied him for a long moment. So long, in fact, he wondered if she were scanning his mind. Emma was a low-level telepath-though nowhere near as powerful as Charles. Yet.

"Look, Scott," she began, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder. "I don't really care how Ms Munroe is, I just want to know if we are still going to be having our mid-terms next week." She crossed her arms over her chest and cocked her head to the side. "And I was wondering if the rumors were true..."

_Rumors? _"What rumors?''

"Well," she cast a furtive glance around before leaning in. "_I_ heard that she's on a ventilator, and the only reason she's still alive is because Professor Xavier can't bring himself to just pull the plug. Honestly, I think he should just do it. I mean, why should the poor woman be forced to spend the rest of eternity attached to machinery just so the old man can-"

Scott held up a hand to stop the words falling from her mouth. He felt as if his entire body were quaking with rage. Emma must have realized, because she very slowly straightened and took a huge step back. "First of all, Ms Frost, you will address me as _Mr. _Summers. Period. Secondly, any rumors you have heard are just that- rumors. You'd do best to remember that. And lastly, there WILL BE mid-terms next week, so I suggest you crack open your history books and start studying instead of spreading garbage through this school. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir," the girl mumbled, before turning on her heel and rushing down the hall.

He took a deep breath before turning himself and continuing towards the kitchen. Pleased to find the room empty, he proceeded to the cupboard, where he pulled down two mugs, which he filled with steaming hot coffee. He dumped three spoons of sugar and a splash of milk into one, and left the other black. After grabbing a croissant and a doughnut, he was on his way back to the Med Lab.

As the MedLab door slid open, Scott's eyes fell upon the beauty sleeping on the bed in the center of the room. Despite the fact that she had been in there for almost three weeks, it still made his heart break a little more each time he saw her laying there hooked up to all of that machinery. Emma's ''rumors'' had been right about something...

Tearing his eyes away from his best friend's prone form, he turned right and placed the sweetened coffee and doughnut in front of a fuzzy blue head laying on the desk.

As soon as the mug touched the wood, Dr Henry McCoy practically jumped from his seat, ''Wha- I'm awake!''

Scott swallowed a chuckle and shook his head at the other man. ''Calm down, Hank. It's just me. Thought you could use some coffee.''

''You wonderful, beautiful man,'' he gasped, gingerly taking a sip of the proffered coffee. His eyes lit up upon seeing the doughnut on the desk. After a hearty bite, he looked up at Scott and began, around a mouthful of doughnut, ''Sorry about that. I did not mean to fall asleep, I just found that I could-''

''When's the last time you slept, Hank?'' Scott asked softly.

Hank's eyes wandered to his patient. ''I just didn't want her to be alone.''

Scott followed his friend's gaze and added, ''I know the feeling...''

_**********************************************************FLASHBACKFLASHBACKFLASHBACK****************************************************_

_Scott Summers dreamt in color._

_In his dreams the world was a myriad of blues, greens, and yellows... every color one could imagine. Except red. Scott's dreams were blessedly devoid of the one color he had come to despise, the one color that tainted his waking world. To say that his dreams were very important to him, was quite an understatement._

_So, imagine his dismay when he was awakened, quite abruptly, from a particularly Technicolor dream, his breath rushing out in a harsh gust, and his heart hammering in his chest. He lay still in his bed, wondering what the hell was going on, when the very foundation of the house was rocked again. Was it an earthquake? An explosion? What the hell was going on? _

_He lay still for another moment, listening to the sound of rain pounding against the roof. The wind howled around the house, and the room was illuminated by a flash of lightening. There was another boom that caused the windows to rattle in their sills. It was a storm; and from the sounds of it, it was very near. _

_Scott was in the middle of rolling over and trying to salvage his dream, when the professor called out in his mind '**Scott, it's Ororo. I may need your help. Please meet me outside of her room.'**_

_Jumping out of bed, Scott raced for the door, flung it open and ran to the end of the hall, and the stairwell that led to the attic apartment the professor had given her. As soon as he opened the door, he was almost slammed back into the wall by a fierce gust of wind. Getting his bearings once again, he took the stairs two at a time, meeting the Professor as he rolled out of the elevator into the small hallway._

"_Professor, what's happening? Is Ororo alright?" Scott had to yell over the howling wind just to hear himself speak. Why did it sound like they were standing in the middle of the storm?_

"_Because we are…" the Professor yelled back. _

"_Huh? I don"t-" _

"_We'll discuss it later. Right now I need you to open the door. And be careful, Scott, I don't want you to get injured."_

_With a nod, Scott hurried to the door and pulled it open. This time the wind literally knocked him off of his feet and sent him sliding back across the floor._

"_**SCOTT!"**_

_He winced at the mental shout, but rose to his feet, signaling to the older man that he was okay._

_That, however, was more than he could say for Ororo. He stood outside her room staring in awe at the storm raging within. Rain was pouring from a cloud that had formed above her bed and the wind whipped around, upending furniture, hurling small objects into the walls, tearing the draperies from the windows. Thunder boomed and lightening flashed in time with the tempest raging outside the window._

_In the middle of it all was Ororo, hovering above the bed, thrashing about as one in the midst of a nightmare might. Scott turned to the professor, at a loss for what to do, but the other man's eyes were tightly shut, his forehead furrowed in concentration. He was handling the situation._

_Scott just watched in awe, his gaze flitting between the Professor and his new housemate. There seemed to be a silent battle between the two, waged on a field Scott was unable to see. So, he waited with bated breath, until finally Ororo screamed, "Mama!" and fell to the wet bed. With a sharp intake of breath she opened her eyes, and sat up. _

_She cast her gaze around the ruined room, before her eyes settled on the doorway and its two occupants. Scott was amazed—and a little freaked out—to see that her eyes were completely pink. Not an ounce of the soft lavender color he had come to appreciate remained. _

"_P-Professor? I…" she began softly. "I didn't… I'm sorry."_

_The Professor rolled quickly across the room and swept the sobbing girl into his arms. Scott was still frozen in place, amazed at the amount of damage that had been done to the room. His gaze swung to the girl kneeling on her bed and the man holding her to him. He wondered what exactly he'd witnessed. Had Ororo been under some kind of attack? Had **she** caused all of the destruction herself? If so, what were her powers?_

"_**Scott,"** the Professor's mental call broke Scott from his musings. **"We are fine here. You may return to bed."**_

"_**Are you sure, Professor? I don't feel comfortable…"** Scott let his thought trail off there, knowing the older man would catch his meaning._

_A wave of warmth preceded his mentor's next words: **"I appreciate your concern, son, but everything here is under control. Please, get some rest."** _

_With nothing else to do, Scott did as he was asked, making his way to his room and climbing back into bed. Sleep was a long time in coming, but when it finally did, Scott found his Technicolor dreams filled with brown skin, white hair, and eyes bluer than the bluest skies. _

_********************************************************XMENXMENXMENXMEN****************************************************************_

_Two days had passed since the incident in Ororo's room, and Scott had not seen her since. He probably would have thought she'd left, if not for the Professor's assurances that she was still on the grounds and cook's continuing to make Ororo's favorite apple cinnamon pancakes._

_Scott sat on the back porch, staring out into woods surrounding the mansion, and wondered what the next few weeks had in store for him. Charles had enrolled him and Ororo in public school, which was set to begin in three weeks. He had to admit to a certain amount of apprehension at meeting new people, and answering a ton of questions regarding his glasses and why he never took them off. At the same time, though, he was excited to meet other kids his age. He wondered how Ororo would take to the news. _

"_Good Morning."_

_Speak of the devil… _

_Scott turned at the voice and found Ororo standing in the doorway, staring at her hands and fidgeting around anxiously. "Good Morning." He wanted to ask how she was doing, but couldn't quite get the words out._

"_May I join you?" she asked after a brief, awkward silence._

"_Sure," he answered, turning back to the woods. He was acutely aware of every step she took, and when she sat on the step right next to him, her arm brushing his, he had to remind himself to breathe._

"_Are you alright?"_

"_I'm sorry."_

_They spoke at the same time, eyes meeting. Ororo laughed lightly, causing Scott to smile, and indicate that she should speak first. Taking a deep breath, she turned her gaze back to her hands. "I'm sorry about the other night. I… don't really remember what happened, but if I hurt you—"_

"_You didn't," Scott was quick to assure her, though he couldn't quite figure out why. "I'm good. What about you? You okay?"_

_She gazed at him for a while, likely judging his sincerity. "I will be, I guess." _

_They lapsed into an only slightly awkward silence, each lost in their own thoughts, before Scott asked, "So … the rain… was that you?"_

"_Yes," Ororo smiled briefly, then frowned. "I can control the weather, most of the time…_ _Sometimes, though, I have a hard time. Like last night. Especially when my emotions get in the way. The Professor is helping me control my emotions, and I'm doing better, but the other night was a… slip up, I guess. I had a nightmare, and lost control." _

_She glanced over at Scott again, her frown deepening and her gaze drifting to her hands once again. Scott was beginning to really hate that expression on her. The brief smile she'd let through earlier made him want to see more. _

"_Show me," he whispered. At her puzzled expression, he gestured to the sky. "Show me what you can do."_

_With a slight nod, Ororo stood, and turned her face to the sky. She closed her eyes, and just basked in the sun's warmth for a moment. Scott thought it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen; her face tilted up, the sun washing over her features. Breathless from her beauty, he just watched in awe. _

_Suddenly, the sky grew dark as clouds rolled in to cover the sun. A soft breeze rustled the leaves in the trees, and a gentle rain began to fall. Ororo's eyes opened, and Scott was surprised to find her eyes had gone completely pink, like they had in her bedroom. Ororo flung her head back and flung her arms out as if welcoming the rain into her embrace. She spun around a few times, laughing to the heavens._

_Scott looked up at the sky in amazement, "You did that?"_

"_I did," she giggled in reply, causing Scott to once again look at her. What he saw caused his heart to beat double time. _

_She smiled. A stunningly bright smile that temporarily robbed him of his breath. Taking a step toward him, she reached out a hand, inviting him to join her in the rain. Scott took her hand and stood behind her, watching as her eyes drifted shut again, and she allowed herself to get lost in her creation. _

_Scott studied her profile silently for a moment before murmuring, "Beautiful."_

"_I know. I love the rain." Ororo sighed and turned to him, her smile growing even brighter. _

_Scott just nodded, knowing that the rain was the last thing on his mind. He decided at that very moment that he would do everything in his power to make her smile like that each and every day._


End file.
